Hands Off
by Obsidian Sphinx
Summary: Trowa's accounts of his various meetings with Quatre, and the decision he comes to at the end of their year long war. Yaoi. Complete. 3x4.


Disclaimer: Hey, everyone! I don't own Gundam Wing (duh), the characters, any rights to it, or have any sort of affiliation with the creators or production. I own only my odd little obsession. Woo-hoo, addicted since the sixth grade and still going strong! . . . Aye, my future looks grim . . .

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Author's Note: Guess what! I'm back:pauses for applause: Anyway, I'm a die-hard GDW fan, and I also happen to be a die-hard 3x4 fan. It's another one of those poor couples that doesn't get as much attention as it should, and the attention it DOES get tends to be . . . sort of weird, ya know:cough: crappy :cough: At-any-rate, I was reading up on my main man, Trowa, and I was inspired to write this little ditty. It's a little different, but I kinda like it, and I hope you guys do to! Long live 3x4! Happy Readings!

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Hands Off

By: Obsidian Sphinx

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He didn't touch me. He smiled at me. He was amused by my surrender, and yet the upturned corners of his mouth spoke of nervousness. He was friendly but drew no lines so that there was nothing to cross. Moreover, he was pleasant, and that was all. He never once touched me.

When I left his company, I was confused and mildly disillusioned. The parameters of my mission and my definition of an obstacle had been blurred, because he caught me off guard, which was very strange. I was never off guard. But I moved on, I did not dwell on him or our encounter. To be honest, I did not expect to see him again. I did not think that someone like him would survive very long in this war. I'd seen more kind people die than I had seen unkind people die, and the odds of someone as trusting and seemingly naïve as him surviving this war were not very good. That's what I thought of him. Kind, approachable, intelligent, but unsuited for battle. All of this, however, was easily forgettable. There was only one thing that stuck out in my mind, and that was the fact that Quatre Winner did not touch me.

I barely recognized him the next time I saw him. Uninhibited, he ran up to me as though we had known one another for years. I tried to ignore him, but he was undeterred by my dismissive attitude. I began to notice a trend in the people I had meant since coming to Earth, all of them appeared completely unaffected by my "cold shoulder" routine. Quatre hadn't changed. He was polite, personable, cheerful, and very inviting, but I did not feel that I had time for him. There was only one thing that made him a centrifugal force in my thought process. He never touched me.

Again, I wiped him from my mind. There was not space enough for him. I had a mission, a cause to which I was devoted. There was no time to spare thinking about a peace guided individual, born of pacifists, who had willfully given up his rights to a billion dollar empire in order to fight in bloody war. No time for that at all. And I didn't think about it, I didn't think about him . . . not until an Oz soldier touched me.

My infiltration into Lady Une's Oz base was simple enough. My skills gained the very confused Colonel's respect as well as her trust. I was willing to sacrifice Duo's decrepit Death Scythe, and although Heero was a welcomed soul, I had no problem treating him as a prisoner. Duo, though charming and likeable, was easy to hit, and Wufei, a respected ally, was easy to ignore. The fact that 04 was missing from the number sequence did not hit me until Nikol cornered me on the way to my barracks. The man did not like me, mainly because I had severely distracted Lady Une's attentions from him. I believed him to be a rather worthless human being, but I could not begrudge him as a soldier. He was quite meticulous, actually, and had a fine grasp of technique, which he demonstrated in the form of a right hook to my jaw. I accepted the punch as gracefully as to be expected. There wasn't that much power behind it, and I had been through far worse in my short life. I only stared at him, awaiting further reprimands, physical or otherwise.

I had been long removed from a very dark period in my life, and I suppose that was the main reason I was surprised when his previously offending hand gently caressed the tender flesh of my cheek. His thumb traced my cheekbone and fondled the newly bruised skin. I stood still, completely still because I had forgotten the sensation of unwanted touch, because I was numb, and because that's what I had always done.

It only happened a few times before the war when I was involved with the second group of mercenaries. As expected, I fought the first and second time, but after that I slipped away. I let myself drift away from reality until such time as it was safe to come back. I had been removed from those times, and I had grown accustomed to not having to concern myself with those situations any longer, but Nikol presented me with it all over again. Fortunately, he ceased his ministrations, leaving me with a warning to remember my place. He had made it very clear to me where he thought my place should be.

After that, I continued to my barracks. I didn't realize my legs were shaky until I sat down on my bed, and I had not registered the sting behind my eyes until I closed them. That was when I remembered him. My first impression of Quatre, that welcoming and shy expression, flashed inside my mind. All I could think of was how he had never touched me.

If someone had told me that such a gentle soul would run around scrapping the very colonies he wanted to save, I wouldn't have believed them. Technically, Heero did tell me that, and I did not believe him, and I should have. Regardless, things escalated to a very strange point wherein I suppose I found it necessary to throw myself in front of Heero's blast in order to save Quatre, who had just blasted me. What a strange turn of events, but I didn't care. It made sense to do it then. That period in time consisted of one thought: 'bring him back'. All I wanted or needed to do was help Quatre find his way. I don't fail missions; I didn't fail that mission. I nearly died after drifting in space for who knows how long, and I developed amnesia, but I was fortunate enough to stumble upon Catherine. I started over. What else could I do? But there was always something there, something nagging at me, a thought when I was in large groups of people. 'Please, don't touch me.'

Despite this, I was fairly happy. Catherine loved me, and I was coming to love her, too. I didn't really remember her, but she was warm and caring. She reminded me of someone, but I did not have a clue as to who it could've been. I lived with unanswered questions, but then I never really sought their answers. It was okay, everything was . . . until Duo showed up and shook me into oblivion. I had no idea who he was, but there was something about his eyes that made my head hurt. Even when I believed him to be a stranger who randomly decided to run up and shake the living day lights out of me, I liked him. But afterwards, I hurt all over. He had touched me, and I knew he hadn't meant to harm me, but it was a phantom pain. I hated that anguish, and the only thing that brought me comfort was a swirling, inkling of an idea that crept past the dark walls of my battered mind. He had never touched me . . . but who was he?

Sometimes when I was in my trailer, alone, and the hurtful thoughts would surface, I would go outside. The animal's cages were all lined up behind the main tent, and I would walk amongst them as they slept. Some of them would acknowledge my presence, especially Howie. He looked ferocious, and rightfully so. Lions are supposed to look ferocious, but Howie was old. His joints were stiff, and his jaw was weak. I had to cut his meat into fine pieces and serve it to him with certain proteins so that he could chew, swallow, and digest without too many problems. But Howie's eyes were sharp. He liked me, I think, and I usually stopped to visit with him on my walks. He would make guttural noises as I fearlessly pet his mane, and he liked to paw at the drawstrings of my sweat pants.

"What a kitten," I would tell him. He was. I liked Howie, and spending time with him usually chased away the thoughts so that I could go back to bed.

I only had one dream when I slept, but it was in black and white, and there was no sound. All I ever saw was white snow fall in a black world. The falling flakes would outline figures, so many figures, and then a gust of wind would make the shapes disappear. Upon awakening, I always thought myself foolish. Dreaming of things I could not remember seemed like wasted REM sleep.

I became too comfortable with life, so it was only natural that I would see him again. This time around, I knew that I recognized him, but from where I wasn't sure. I was baffled, actually, because he cried upon seeing me. He knew my name, and he cried when he said it. I was beginning to see a trend in the people I couldn't remember. They all had very extreme reactions when they visited me. Any chance I would have had to talk to the nameless blonde was announced null, because Catherine would not have it. She did not want me to fight. Fight, Cathy, why would I fight? Apparently, I had fought at one time.

His image didn't go away. It was stuck in my mind, and I brooded over it constantly. 'He had nice eyes,' I would think. 'Is he a natural blonde,' I would wonder. But I always whispered to myself, "He didn't touch me."

And he didn't touch me the next time I saw him. He came to help me, but he didn't touch me. I went with him to help Catherine, and he still didn't touch me. And things progressed quickly. I meant Duo again, and he did touch me. He didn't hurt me so much as he startled me. I still liked him. More and more people were added to the mix, and I flowed with it all. My memory began to get better, and it hurt less to recall certain things. The one thing that baffled me the most, and had always baffled me, was Quatre. He was obviously my friend; he was everybody's friend. He was kind, intelligent, devout, and lovely. He never touched me.

And then he got stabbed. I was surprised, too. I was scared, I was mad, and then I was just plain floored. The only thing running through my mind was suddenly, 'My God, he never touched me.' So, I touched him. I leaned his body against mine and guided him out of that place. There was no phantom pain. I had decided to touch _him._

We won, but it was a strange victory. First, we were all scared for Heero, and then we were all just plain scared. What is there to do after a year spent fighting? I didn't know, but I chose to focus my fear on one person. Quatre did need medical help after all. Peacemillion was a distant memory, right along with Libra, Treize Kushrenada, and thousands of faceless soldiers. L2 took everyone in, which worked well for Duo because he already had something of a home there. He offered to put Heero, Wufei, and I up at his place. I agreed and was surprised when Heero and Wufei did too. It worked for us, I think, to be in one another's company. However, we spent time helping Howard, Sally, and Noin in various ways because we needed to feel like we had a purpose at least for a little while longer. But we spent time at the hospital, too. Duo was an adamant visitor to his friend, Hilde, and Quatre. I liked Hilde. She was a lot like Catherine, a lot like Duo, Heero, Wufei, and a lot like Quatre. She didn't hide her spirit.

Quatre went through minor surgery. There weren't any complications, and I was glad. I visited him often, but he was fairly well drugged when I was there. He was drugged until one day when I came, and he was sitting up in his bed, diligently arguing with someone over the phone. I thought it sounded like he was winning. He saw me, just like he always saw me, and smiled the same way he always smiled. I tried to smile back, but just like all the times before, it didn't quite make it. He understood. He hung up the phone after a minute, and I sat by his bedside. I stayed there for a full two hours with him, and he dozed for part of that time. He never touched me, and I was sad.

When I was getting ready to leave, quietly uttering my good-byes, he called my name. I regarded him as I had always regarded him, and looked at him stoically. His brow knitted together, and I watched him turning over thoughts in his mind. Finally, he smiled. It was nice and shy, just as it had been the day we met.

"Is it okay now," he asked?

He knew, somehow he had always known. I deliberated. It had been all right when I had carried him out of Libra. But did I want it to be okay anymore? Was he worth it being okay? He had proved me wrong. The war had not killed him; he lived as brightly as ever. Maybe that alone deserved my approval. But that was not what made my decision for me. It was a memory. I had thought of Quatre after the incident with Nikol, and I had not understood it at the time, but now it made sense. I wanted Quatre's touch because his touch could chase away Nikol's. His touch could chase away the ones from my past. Why his touch could cure my cancer, I wasn't sure, but I knew I was right.

"I think so," I told him.

He glowed, although I think I may have been the only who could've seen it.

"Then let me thank you properly, Trowa, as I have always been apt to do," he said. His voice was strong, and he beckoned me near him.

I was nervous, which was strange. I was rarely nervous. And it happened in an instant. He hugged me, gently leaning his head against my shoulder.

"Thank you," he whispered. "For everything, I thank you."

And it felt right, and I supposed I returned the hug, foreign as the concept was to me. When he released me, and I him, he smiled genuinely. I could not speak, as my tongue was suddenly stuck behind my teeth. Duo showed up. I was relieved but also concerned because Quatre needed his rest. When Duo was there, Quatre would not rest. He enjoyed the other boy's company far too much.

I left, though. I walked back to Duo's place. Neither Heero nor Wufei were present, and I was thankful. I sat in the dark, and I thought about Catherine. She had not appeared to like Quatre or Duo very much. I thought about Duo, and how much I thought she could grow to like him, about how much she could grow to like Heero and Wufei as well. And I thought that she would simply have to grow to like Quatre because I realized something as I sat wrapped in the darkness of Duo's apartment. Long before I helped him escape from Libra, long before he gave me his hug in the hospital, he had touched me. In fact, Quatre Winner was the only one who ever had.

-OWARI


End file.
